Monthly Archives: February 2016

Bad night’s rest. G. called me at 5.30. & I rose at 6 ― & at 7. exactly I set out: ― it is “too” blessed to get out of this swell doghole once a week. Glorious bright morning. Up by the Post, to Col. Smith’s ― & to Villafranca ― which I drew ― till 10 ― (I got there at 8.20.)

Resolved then to go & finish all the farthest subjects, so passed behind Villefranche, & below the pines & olives, & to the Isthmus & along the narrow path to St. Jean, & beyond to S. Hospice. Here, sheltered partly from an orfle wind ― lunch. Quirt & pleasant: looking at the wretched steamer going to Monaco, & one coming thence. And this, I think & hope, is my last visit to this promontory, drawing various times ― the Esa coastline is very grand ― I came away at 3.30 ― & behind Villefranche again ― got up to the old road height at 4.30 ― but we had to dawdle ― not to get to the Passeggiata by daylight. Finally it rained a little.

Dined at 6.30. ―

Letter from Ellen: always very amiable.

Penned out.

Accounts ― dreadful bore ― & I altogether so irritated that I feel half a mind to clear out at once.

Rose at 7. Sun clouded: rises at 7.25. ― Cloudy all day ― mostly ― gleam of sun now & then. I have a cup of coffee now at 8 ― & breakfast at 10: ― for, breakfasting at 8, one wants luncheon. Violently set to work to produce some species of rapidly=executed, 5=pound=fetching drawing ― & tried a large one of Eza on gray paper ― but by 10 I failed entirely. ― After breakfast tried another dodge ― on white paper, & penned out 2 (Noli, & C. di Noli,) entirely also coloring them. But all this uncertainty is very disheartening. ― At 2. ― wo is me to remember ―

X4

Τύχη. Φύσις. Θάνατος. Κόσμος. Ζῶν.[1]

At 4 came amiable Thomson-Hankey, & looked admiringly at drawings. Walked with him to Villa Sassernò ― where were charming Mrs. T.H. & Mrs. Bathurst. (Allan & Muriel come tonight.) (Mrs. B.’s ideas are slow.) Sang 2 songs. Came away at 6 with Courier ― & went on alone to Viscontis, where I bought 20 sheets of paper ― bringing home 10, in a leetle rain, wh. fell, cloudy all.

After which, (reading C. Napier’s life to wit,)[1] I wrote to Mrs. Henry Bruce: & worked again ― (stopping once only, when kindly Lady Duncan called,) till 2.30. At 2.45. ― having “fixed” that it is better to get all one has to do of sketching done & off out of hand, ― set off to Col. Smith’s point ― a quick walk of 50 ― or 55 minutes. Drew, sitting on rox, till 4.40. Saw Colonel Smith: strange being ― 76 years old ― returning from his villa: he goes to Aix in a day or two about the lawsuit concerning his boundary. Posted letter to Mrs. H. Bruce ― & home by 6.20. Good dinner of Macarroni [sic] & Duck hashed: but G. is silent & apparently unwell.

Later, he confessed he was so ― but on my saying some medicine should be taken, ἐγέλασε, καὶ εἴπε ― “ὢς Μπερτόδολος ― ποῦ ἐπῆρε ἰατρικά!”[2] ―

Penned out one large (Mentone) drawing till 10.

Finirà ― bisogna[3] να ὁμολωγῆ τις[4] ― One is very quiet here: odious as is the place in many respects.

This day last year at “the Palace;” ―

“we come no more
to the golden shore
We lived in days of old.[”]

Ἀλήθεια.[5]

4th day ―
tho’ only half 1 of
5 pounders[.]

[1] Sir W. Napier’s The Life and Opinions of General Sir Charles James Napier. 4 vols. London: John Murray, 1857.

[2] He laughed and said ― “Like Bertoldo ― who took medicine!” Nina adds: “He is referring to a work by Guilio Cesare Croce which was immensely popular in Greece until the early 19th century. So much so that μπερτόδουλος (a corrupted form of the name) came to mean a shrewd, clever and cunning person in general.”
Bertoldo, who represents the wisdom of the people in contrast to the nobles’ pretentious behaviour, dies when he is cured with “the remedies for the gentlemen and the knights” rather than being given a pot of beans with onions, which he knows would cure him.

Taking a cup of coffee ― went out at 8 ―; &, since I must do some Nice drawings ― buckled thereunto ― & sketched outlines all the way to the bridge & back ― returning by 11 to breakfast. After wh., accounts with G. ― wh. are a bore, as he is always in a way about expenses. Then penned out the outlines, & again ― all along the Promenade to the Port ― & back by 4.30. Wonderful beautiful clear weather to look at certes. They say however, the bad winds ― cold & dust, don’t begin till February.